Keep it Moving

The elderly are often stereotyped as being reliant and needy. The one that really gets to me is that when someone tell me, “Help them they’re old.” Forget that, they can help themselves. They are not needy. If a person has 70 plus years of life experience I don’t think they need to be treated like a child. Sometimes people say you should spend time with someone when they are old because they could drop dead any second. As if all old people are lonely are dependent on you. They are lucky they can be by themselves and not have to take care of their children any longer so the last thing I think they want is to be bothered by more people having pity on them. You should spend time with someone if you genuinely want to spend time with them not because you feel they need it or are lonely.

Another one that is just plain funny because of its falseness is that the elderly are forgetful even of their own children. My grandparents have twenty something grandchildren and they always remembered their birthdays and events that they went through whether it were soccer games or confirmation. When my grandfather was alive he ran his business until he was 91 years old. He never quit working because he was never forgetful and never got lazy. He wasn’t that type of guy that sat on his couch and read the paper to pass the time.

The elderly are just as active as the young are. When seniors are shown to be lazy or sedentary it really hurts their image considering not only is it false but many have active lifestyles. Many still exercise and I see quite a few in the gym still exercising. Let’s not forget the United States isn’t the healthiest country in the world especially with younger kids. Not all teenagers are exercising everyday just like not all seniors are not sedentary and reading the paper or watching the golf channel when they are bored. When I was living in Florida many of the elderly could drive just as fine as younger people and they sped just as fast or faster than younger people on I-95. Put it this way many seniors now have more freedom to enjoy their life more freely because they are not held down by their family or job responsibilities so they are able to more fully able to enjoy life. Many travel like my grandfather did all over the world.

Most elderly people I have met have not been irritable or crabby, in fact most were happy because they lived a full and honest life. I think fields in entertainment like to show them this way because it is a lazy way in classifying a group. It doesn’t challenge them to see each senior as an individual rather than a whole group. When I volunteered at a nursing home I never had problems with any of the seniors. They always appreciated me and talked to me about how life was when they were teenagers. One would talk about the war and the type of plane he flew and where he was stationed at the time while another would just talk about the activities that were going on that day in the nursing home. Most just wanted someone to talk to and if you are a good listener you were their best friend. That is really all people want, is to have you listen to them and their stories. Not all of them are terribly unique or interesting but they are all personal and mean something to that individual.

Dumb Blonde... I Don't Think So

“Miss, there seems to be a problem…” I often hear this when I go to have my car serviced. It’s not that my car is in bad condition and it’s not that they do this to every customer; the fact is I’m a 22 year old blonde haired blue eyed girl who looks like she couldn’t tell an engine from a steering wheel.

When I try to have my oil changed, a service that should cost no more than $35, I suddenly need $400 worth of work done under the hood. A leaky part, a loose screw, whatever they can come up with to scare me into swiping my dad’s credit card and letting them get to work and ensure my safe travels in my car. It’s not only when I get my oil changed that I get stereotyped as a dumb-blonde. People at work and school and even guys I date seem surprised when I say something intelligent. My own brother swore that I’d never beat his SAT score when we took it together one year, him being a senior and me being a sophomore. I blew him away by over 200 points.

I know there are a lot of worse stereotypes out there and I don’t want there to be some Blonde Ambition parade through town; but I do believe that people should look a little deeper before passing judgment on other people. The fact is that we all do it; it’s out of our control. We watch TV and see black people in oversized clothes robbing pedestrians, so what do we do when we see those same black people walking towards us? Get a little anxious, try to smile and tell yourself it was just TV, but hold your bag a little tighter? Or just from watching sex and the city think that all gay men have to have high-pitched voices and a wardrobe of pastels. Society tells us how to think about certain people and it’s very hard to keep a constant mindset of acceptance.

Even with society telling us how to think, sometimes we can manage our own opinions. Some people start at a far greater disadvantage; having prejudice parents. In sixth grade I started “dating” a black boy. By dating I meant he wore my hair tie on his arm, so that meant we were together. Almost all of my girl friends told me that there dad’s would kill them if they dated a black guy. My parents didn’t mind at all. Most of those friends were from this area and their families had lived here forever. My family was moved all around the country because my dad was a marine. We met people of all different shapes, sizes and colors and I was taught to treat everyone the same.

I like to think that I’m an open minded person, but I’ll be the first to admit that I watch people pass by and make some little assumptions of my own about them. I’m usually admiring a pair of cute shoes or thinking of how I could politely tell somebody that they should burn their outfit. I guess I’m fashionably prejudiced; funny sounding, but still wrong. We can all learn something from everyone else, why should we fear something that could possibly help us live better happier lives?

I really let myself down on this one.

When it comes to stereotyping, people can discuss it in many lights. Lets just say that I could take this paper into many venues, just by changing the specific things that I am talking about. On one hand I could elaborate on how stereotyping is a type of prejudice and how judging someone just on their appearance or they talk, is prejudice. But I think that I would like to go the other route. I think that I would like to elaborate on how I specifically have been stereotyped. After the in-class assignment that we had a week ago, I did a lot of thinking about this specific subject and came to some quick realizations about how I am stereotyped upon. I know that strictly writing about oneself would make me quite self-deluded and conceited but it is something that I would like to get off of my chest.

When it comes to stereotyping someone, I am usually the first to step in line. But when it comes to me being stereotyped, I am first to take offense for the assumptions that people make. If you have not taken a glance at the class picture, I’m the fat, red-headed guy. At first glance, what do you think? Of course I’m not as handsome as Brad Pitt nor does my smile melt the hearts of the coldest shouldered women. But I am me, and I have come to accept that. The only thing that I truly hate, is when someone thinks differently about me and has no real justification for this.

When you think of think of a fat person, most people think “wow, that guy must just eat all the time and just lay on the couch”. Well I know for me at least, that that is quite the contrary. I go to the gym 4 times a week and on average work out about 2 hours. I have been training for power lifting for the past three years. I don’t look that strong, because I’m fat. I don’t look like I work out 4 times a week, because I have an extremely slow burning metabolism. I know that three of you probably just went bull-shit, or laughed because fat people don’t work out do they? Fat people eat a lot, they don’t have problems. Well skinny girl or guy, you’re wrong. There are a lot of fat people who honestly do eat too much, and not exercise at all. On TV you see the fat guy sitting on the couch with a bag of a potato chips and a soda. I drink water, and I just ate an apple. Funny how that works isn’t it? You see advertisements for these workout machines that you pay two thousand dollars for, and use them three times. You see this extremely fit guy wearing nothing but his underwear telling me that if I work out 20 minutes a week on his Bo‘s Flex machine, that I will look just like him. That’s a lie. What they don’t tell you, and what I can tell you (since I have been working as a personal trainer for the past 3 years, and an assistant personal trainer for 5) is that just working out on his little machine, WILL NOT CHANGE YOUR COMPLETE BODY STRUCTURE. If you change your diet, your sleep routine, your cardio-vascular exercise routines, and do the minimal 20 minutes worth of exercise on Bo’s Flex machine you will lose weight. But I digress because that doesn’t really matter. The fact of the matter is that even though I may be fat, I’m not some lazy bastard who sits around on the couch all day playing video games and eating potato chips.

While we are on the subject of eating, I will tell everyone that not all fat people eat extremely large meals 5 to 6 times a day. We don’t all go to McDonalds and eat Big Macs for every meal. I myself try to eat healthy. Sure I indulge in a Pot Tart for breakfast every now and then, but all in all, I don’t try to be a glutton. I don’t have fried chicken every other night and go to big country buffets and eat three to four plate full’s of food. Now does that mean that there are other people who do that? Well sure. I’m sure that there are people that fit into whatever mental stereotype that people have for fat people but how can they justify them for every single person that they think that about.

Most people think that fat people are dumb and inconsiderate people. Just like when I saw someone that I hadn’t seen in years the other day they just couldn’t believe how I had turned out. They didn’t really know me that well in high school, and when they asked me what I was doing now, I told them that I was a teacher. Their eyes went extremely wide and they started laughing. Of course I initially knew what they were laughing at because the thought of me being a teacher on the basis of what they would know from high school, is really funny. But the fact that he asked if I had went to college, kind of offended me. I was never the brightest student, nor did I put the most effort into my work but I had the capacity to do so. I was just extremely lazy. Now does his misconception of me being dumb come from my laziness (which is a supposed characteristic of fat people) or is it the other wrong characteristic which leads people to think that fat people are just dumb. I experienced other aspects of this stupidity of fat people when I started in the English Department at UNCW.

Of course I’m sure that such stereotypes have departed from the minds and hearts of the students that inhabit the university so I won’t let anyone think that they have done such things in their duration at the school. I was there a couple of years ago and don’t expect such aspects of people to still be there. But that would be a misconception in itself wouldn’t it? And I know that we all have beliefs and stereotypes about people, but they can’t all possibly be true. I plead with everyone and myself to looker closer into the true reality of what people are and not into the ignorant misconceptions that we make about people.

We're Livin' in a Melting Pot--So Stir It Up, Baby.

I watch her from my bed as she carries on playful conversation through her cell phone. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek bun. Both her eyelids, trimmed in electric blue, and her posture exude confidence, boldness. Her Northern accent booms inside the four walls of my room.

"Quit lunchin," she says to the person on the other end of the line.

The phone conversation ends only so another can begin. The second states its presence as the phone blares a funky, reggae tone.

My roommate, who sits with me, catches my gaze--giving me a curious look. I watch her eyes travel from my sister Kaitlyn's black tennis shoes, up past tight jeans toward the excessive gold jewelry that shimmy down and around my sister's neck and arms. Hearing the sound of the phone, my roommate brings her mouth close to my ear.

"Lia, your sister is so ghetto," she whispers.

Thuggy-Bear. Wigger. Yo. It varies depending on the speaker. I've heard these words, these labels, placed on my sister ever since elementary school. It's rare that I introduce her to someone new without hearing one of them slide into their response. Why does she talk like that? She lives in Brooklyn? She dates black guys? Does she hate white people? All she listens to is reggae and rap? How in the hell are the two of you related?

We grew up in a big family. With eight children, a sense of normalcy or plainness just didn't have a place. From a young age, our parents instilled in us the belief that our differences are what set us apart, make us great. Ashley likes the color red and runs cross country. Whitney likes to paint and take ballet classes. Cullan prefers football over soccer and plays video games whenever he gets the chance. As I hear others' judgments and criticisms of my sister's appearance and life-style, I wish the lesson I learned as a toddler could become a trademark of today's society.

We have been groomed to fear change, to pay close attention to people and ideas that are different, that stand out. Just because I wear my hair a certain way or prefer one genre of music over the other doesn't mean I am rejecting my ethnic heritage. Or that I want to have my skin dyed. Or that I'm carrying a gun in my purse. Or that I resent being white. Cultural differences, in all of their varying, breathtaking colors, were once used as a positive slogan of this "melting-pot" country. Perhaps it, too, was just a scam. Cheap propaganda to boost a young, green economy. But something deep inside me hopes this is not true.

I itch with anticipation that our generation has the power to jump-start what appears to be a looming revolution. One where we embrace the things that make your skin darker or lighter or more freckly or far more likely to get sunburned than mine. Where the taste of Zimbabwean cuisine has a place right next to spaghetti and meatballs.

I sense a mirrored desire in my sister's quiet desperation. She sees the way certain people look at her, but smiles despite their ignorance. While others may refuse, she makes a difference each day. Her life is one that reflects open-mindedness and love. She remains hopeful and I can see it in her eyes as she takes another long drag from a slender, white cigarette.

Broken

In the world we are engineered to depend on people around us; this innate habit builds up our expectations towards our next move. My story imitates instances such as these, it begins as this: I find my self waiting for a friend who promises he will show up on time for my weekly early-morning surf session.

A friend who has never been a part of this unique experience, as I had, did not know what to expect. After all the metaphorical interpretation about surfing which I candidly threw in his direction, I began to wonder how much sense he would make of them. After all these moments stole hours, even days of sleep away from me at a time when an early morning surf was as important as the first morning cigarette to the nicotine fiend. Needless to say the next morning I was dependent on his impromptu arrival aside my driver seat. I knew the bliss, it was a kiss of an early morning sun on your forehead, the cool breeze sending its pleasure signals up the back of the spine. The gentle crashing waves of energy marching towards expectations of the experienced souls. A time well spent with a brotherhood, I knew he couldn’t understand until he shared my peace and serendipity of such moments.

Herein lies the problem: my expectations were set for this blessed time. The morning sun began it morning rituals slowly piercing our east coast horizon with the all to familiar UV rays, extracting the darkness from the night before. The only people awaking are those who hold promises. The morning is a peaceful time, for peaceful people.

I’ve seen the morning people; they are a group of honest individuals: doctors, small business owners, school teachers, the one’s who live to serve and help. Not included in this group are the selfish, my friend. I am aware of outside pressures, those which are the antagonist of promises, they are the broken promises. But, his promise was different to me, it was a destruction of our shared theatrical experience I had planned in my subconscious the night before.

The time had come, and he was a no show. I went on to enjoy my surf, every waking moment of Butit. I mean waking, because sometimes the experience is surreal, it‘s hard to tell where my soul stops and the oceans depth begins on these mornings of clarity. And as good as it was, it should have been better, what I felt should have been shared, but the camaraderie was broken. It was incomplete, not because my friend did not show up, but because I would never articulate how it turned out. I still talk about that morning, and he still denies the promise.

I Believe that a Pencil is better than a Pen

It’s hard to say that I really believe in anything, I am always trying to decide whether or not I actually have enough information to constantly believe in anything. I’m not trying to portray no moral compass, I do believe in kindness and caring individuals, I’m trying to assert that certain variables in these types of psychological decisions are almost impossible to put your finger on. However, I do understand that because the flexibility of certain beliefs driven by experience are interchangeable from our familiarity in such themes of constant certainty. In other words, it is safe to assume that our argument in this subject matter should be only faith based.

A time not long ago I would have been able to feed such a sugar coated topic with political standpoints, philosophical indignations and religious affiliation. But now I have been lead to exemplify my insight or lack there of in such things as; the incapacity to truly make educated decisions, come to utterly true syllogistic statements and hard core factual belief.

My thoughts on justice- I wonder how some people ignore the obvious utterances in situations to make irrational decisions. A strong point being Joshes multiple run-ins with the legal system. Nobody ever stopped to look at the good things Josh may do, he never got credit for making his payments, going to school or the other things he does to make society a better living scenario. The system just stops; making their ill-advised verdict and making a persons life worse, instead of helping. Situations like this resemble oxymoron’s, the law pursues extreme mistreatment upon its citizens for the usual petty and often times misunderstood “crimes”. On the other hand, it goes with out saying we should have laws in place and they should be pursued, albeit justified. It becomes a question of significance where we need to erase the imperfections, to become the real justice system originally stated.

My thoughts on editing- my life is such a thing. We worry about the perfection of what we write. When none of us can legitimately and positively say whose writing style stands out as the most original or stylistic piece we read. Why these things are beyond me probably assures a reason that I am certainly not all knowing or all powerful. The day to day questions I ensue most markedly; pass in and out of my streaming consciousness leaving their own private dents upon the things I recognize as being important. Just so when I wake up I can end up right back where I started, clueless.

My two short bits are why I believe a pencil is better than a pen, no one can truly say mine is better than yours or vice versa. I find how I feel about this subject disturbing for now, but that will change. For the simple fact, right now there is so much that I am unable to see clearly that will keep me from finding a true real belief system. I know that there are wrongs and rights in the world, but our discussion on Thursday explains why I believe it is nothing more than a matter of personal opinion. Like personal opinion is a simple focus point in itself? Now to complete my analogy, the idea comes from the pencils ability to erase our once concrete ideas which we discovered untrue.

Hiding Behind the All American Girl

She was the THAT girl. When she walked into a classroom, other girls would mumble "bitch" under their breath. Her senior yearbook had over 30 different pictures of her, from her picture as captain of the cheerleading squad to her performing lead in a play to numerous candids of her interacting with her peers. Her college application letter listed her in the top three percent of her class academically, as a member of many clubs and serving as an officer for most of them. She had a weighted GPA of 4.3, was a peer tutor, editor for the school paper and a four-year varsity cheerleader. She was statistician for the baseball team, a volunteer with several charities, a requested keynote speaker for civic organizations, and even a former pageant queen who had performed in front of thousands at the Governor’s mansion. Add to all of that she was the daughter of the winning football and basketball coach who was a popular teacher at the school which she attended. Her long chestnut hair and Bambi eyes accentuated her striking good looks which added the final touches to her already impressive resume. She was considered and often referred to as the All-American Girl. The term is often seen as a compliment but to her it was a label that she was never comfortable with, a piece of societal clothing that others draped over her but she felt never truly fit.

The stereotype of the All-American Girl, especially within the closed environment of the insecure teenage fishbowl known as high school, comes with the expectation of a confident, even arrogant princess who believes herself to be above her peers. For her, the truth was quite the opposite, at least in how she viewed herself. She was shy, painfully so, and her quiet remoteness was often mistaken as snobbery. It pained her as she didn't understand why her peers didn't include her in their group. She didn't understand they looked at her and decided she wouldn't want to hang out with them, even before they ask her. They projected their insecurities onto her. Her friends all had steady boyfriends, but boys just didn't ask her out. They would talk to her, even try to befriend her, but most never made the move for something more. Again, she couldn't see it was their insecurities that stopped them. She didn't see herself as attractive and thought that is why they avoided romantic involvement with her.

What others didn't know was her over-achievement was an expectation of her parents. She was pushed to excel as that was the requirement needed to get her into and pay for college. She had the brains and talent to do whatever she wanted so there was never a question. She simply was expected to do it all. Despite having most of the tools needed, it often didn't come easy. Being shy, she found it hard to stand up in front of crowds to speak. She practiced for hours to prepare. She struggled with math concepts so making good grades in advanced classes meant regular meetings with a tutor. Lacking confidence in her social skills, she struggled with her fears when joining a new club or activity. But she did it because that is what was required of her.
It could be argued that the role of cheerleader is the biggest symbol of the All-American Girl stereotype. This was the most conflicted role for her to carry. When she put on the uniform it was expected that she was a perky ditz who thought she was the hottest thing around. In her experience, this was the truth with several of her teammates. Many of the girls wanted to cheer simply to wear the short skirt and catch the eyes of those around them on Friday nights. For her, cheering was her way of supporting something she loved and was raised with. From the time she was born, she has spent countless hours on football fields and basketball courts. Her life had never been absent of her father coaching and she cheering for him. For four years of high school she could be directly involved by being a cheerleader. She took it seriously and would quickly become frustrated with teammates when they were unaware of what was happening on the field or even who had the ball. As captain she demanded the squad know the difference between offense and defense and the correct cheers for both. When the team lost, she had no patience for giggling and play right after the game. And she had been raised with the principles of good sportsmanship and demanded they be followed. Her perspective of cheerleading often chafed her teammates and further alienated her from them. She loved cheering for her team and her dad but she nearly hated being a cheerleader.

At the senior recognition assembly she took home several awards including one labeled "Best All-Around." She actually had a plaque that officially dubbed her All-American Girl. Little did the audience know that as she accepted the award inside she was actually looking forward to college where she would finally to just get to be herself without the stereotype she had been forced to carry for so long.

It Just Makes Sense

Somewhere between puberty and young adulthood 1,000 to 5,000, students are expected to come together in one harmonious assemblage and co-exist for four years, earning the best grades, participating in sports, and making the most of the social scene, all the while preparing for the real world. This grand idea that we call high school was conceived in the mid 1800s and is long overdue for a revamping of sorts.

I believe that the standards for high schools should be the same across the board. North Carolina insures that every student is learning the same material by implementing the North Carolina Standard Course of Study. This is merely a pacing guide for each grade and what the students are expected to know by the end of the year. This would be ideal if all of the schools had the ability to utilize the same resources. However, because the state leaves most of the funding up to the counties some high schools lag behind. Take Wake and Bertie Counties for instance. Wake County’s median household income is $57, 846 compared to a meager $27,040 for Bertie County. Sure, there may not be as many students in Bertie County but would you not agree that these children should be offered the same educational opportunities as the ones in Wake County? If the state took all of the money for education and divided it equally according to how many students each school had it would be fair.

High schools should start later in the day. It is proven that young adolescents function better in the late morning and afternoons. If they started high schools at 9 o’clock in the morning and ended at 3 o’clock in the afternoon I am sure we would see a boost in moral. Most high school children have jobs and 2 hours of homework each night. Let’s say little Johnny gets off of work at 10 p.m., finishes his homework at 11:30, and is asleep by midnight. In order for him to get the recommended 8 hours of sleep he would have to wake up at 8 a.m. However, because his high school starts at 7:45 he would have to wake up at 6:45 to get ready and arrive on time. This leaves him less than 7 hours of sleep adversely affecting his concentration levels.

I would also change the amount of time that the children have for lunch. When I was in high school 25 minutes was all the time we had to get to the lunchroom, get our food, and eat. When you have to walk across campus and wait in line for the 300 students ahead of you to get their food that leaves you with approximately 2.5 seconds to eat. If they extended the day by about 20 minutes and allocated that time into the lunchtime it would work.

I’m sure if you interviewed today’s students about what they would change in high school you would hear exclamations about no homework, better food, more breaks, and even cut out high school all together. Though these ideas may seem great when you’re 16 it wouldn’t work in the scheme of things. Although, with some surveying and deliberation I’m sure that a few proposed ideas could indeed help and maximize student achievement. Who knows it could actually make it half way enjoyable for some.

What Do We Determine With Testing?

The problem I have with American schools, which is also a problem in elementary and middle schools as well would be the ridiculous emphasis that is put on standardized testing and rigid curriculums.

Years ago these tests were administered with the purpose of the placement of students in certain classes, or to ascertain which students needed additional help. Today, test scores are quoted by newspapers; they are used as the primary criteria for judging the success or failure of students, teachers, the school and the district. They are used by public officials to impose their will upon the education system. From an international perspective, our situation must seem entirely unusual. Few countries administer exams to children so young or with such a frequency as we do and yet school systems are known to be more successful.

Our children are tested to an extent that is unmatched in the history of our society. There is no more discussion of learning or of new educational methods. Alfie Kohn is writer on education and was printed in Time magazine as "perhaps the country's most outspoken critic of education's fixation on grades [and] test scores." Kohn states that the educational discourse in our nation has been limited to: "Test scores are too low. Make them go up."Testing allows politicians to display their concern for the school system. Test scores offer a simple means of gratification. Demanding increased test scores fits nicely with political buzzwords such as “accountability”, “tougher standards” and “No Child Left Behind”. Some people might argue that such accountability is necessary and that we need an objective means of measuring students' achievements. But do standardized tests truly provide an objective measure of achievement, and if not, then what do they measure?

Kohn argues that they do not.

He says that first and foremost, we must ask ourselves if we are truly measuring something that is important. “Are we measuring intelligence and practical ability, or are we simply measuring test-taking ability?” Standardized tests do more to herd up children, tag them and stick them in a room with kids like them. When we put so much stress on size of classrooms and individualism, why do they undermine by focusing on a test that does nothing to measure the specific talents of each child. Though they are objective, in the sense that they are sometimes scored by machines, they are decidedly subjective, in that they are created by human beings. People write the questions, which may be confusing, biased, or even stupid. Furthermore, people decided which questions to include, and which ones to exclude. Who determines those people and why are they important enough to gauge the intelligence of children and teens?

Proponents of this testing argue that it is not realistic to think that we could eliminate such exams. People who are worried about reality and the “real-world” need to realize that artificial exercises such as standardized tests are unrealistic, and do nothing whatsoever toward preparing students for life outside of the classroom. When there are classes specifically designed on strategies and tricks to outwit and beat the S.A.T., you ask yourself once again, how does that determine the student’s capability in each level of courses, types of classes and college entrance. Rather than providing the opportunity for students to demonstrate a higher level of reasoning ability, or carry out any form of extended analysis, standardized tests stress a more superficial level of reasoning, and are most typically extensive exercises in short term memory.

Rules, rules, and more rules

There is no turning back now. Like a spaceship and an asteroid on a collision course, time is slipping before we make the inevitable contact. Will we scrape by? Will I survive the encounter? How bad will it really be? The questions pervade my head as the distance between us closes in the hallway. It is just me and her, feeble spaceship versus massive asteroid. I avert my eyesight, hoping, praying she just says, "Good Morning," and continues her inquisition elsewhere. The hallway feels eternally long. The angst is unbearable.

Spaceship to mission control. Collision unavoidable. Danger 10 feet and closing. Contact to be made in T-minus 3--2--1--

"Alex, did you forget to shave this morning? Yesterday? THIS WEEK?! You look like a bum, shave that scruff off of your face tonight, and those sideburns need not exceed the earlobe. How many times, Alex, how many times do I have to tell you? Oh, and are those crew socks or ankle socks? They need to cover the ankle, Alex. See you tommorow."

Spaceship to mission control. Collision unavoided. Ship destroyed. Zero survivors.

During my four years of high school at a private college preparatory school, every inch of our dress and appearance was scrutinized by the faculty to be in strict adherance to the dress code. In addition to the demands of wearing the school uniform with aestethic perfection, things like hair length, jewelry, facial hair, and sock length were also picked apart by the faculty. The school uniform consisted of a polo shirt, khaki shorts, and sneakers in the warmer months and an oxford, tie, and khakis in the wintertime. The uniform wasn't so bad, it was the faculty's scrutiny that really hurt.

"Tuck that shirt in. Don't sag. Is your top button buttoned? Fix your tie."

It was rather stifling. The uniform rules were just the tip of the iceberg, though. Overall individuality and personality were not supported in my school. There were so many rules that it was hard to breathe. I don't remember a day in high school that I didn't do something that was against the rules, frowned upon, or just plain wrong.

If I could change one thing about high school, it would be the insane amount of rules that were placed on me throughout the four years at a private school. Rules like the ones I experienced are stifling, controlling, frustrating, and overall, gave me an askewed view on education. Extreme rules implemented by schools can have a negative effect on impressionable youth. Sometimes, there is no freedom. I encourage free-thought, creativity, individuality, happiness. School doesn't have to be a nightmare. Let us breath. Let us fly.

4 is the new 5

How many people have heard this conversation amongst a group of mothers?

Mom A: My Bobby is so smart, I think I’m gonna start him in Kindergarten a year early.
Mom B: Oh yeah, well I read Baby Shakespeare to my Sally every night. She’s only three but I think she’s ready to start school right now!
Mom A: Our children are soooo smart, let’s go tanning!

Depending on the school district, the minimum age requirement for a child to enroll in kindergarten is between four and five years old. It seems that the current trend is motivated toward pushing the age even younger, as parents fight to have their “gifted and talented” children swept up into the machine as soon as possible. I’m not sure if this motivation stems from a selfish root or if parents truly believe that the geniuses on their hands need to learn colors as soon as possible. Either way, I think it’s just the beginning of a dangerously archaic process.

Our age/grade scale was developed for a society that no longer exists. I believe the system was originally set up to get young adults into the workplace sooner than later. Even thirty years ago, it was far less common for students to continue their education beyond high school. The problem today is that we are graduating our students too soon. The average seventeen or eighteen year-old is not mentally, emotionally or socially ready for a serious position in the working world, much less to be a college student.

It’s no secret that kids are growing up faster and faster these days, but our school systems are really doing nothing to help. Starting at around age 15, high school kids are put in the position to make decisions that will seriously affect their life’s trajectory. Given the chance to do it all again, I know I would have wanted to been a few years older before having choices of that magnitude on my dinner plate. I was fairly mature for my age but I was in no position to make life altering decisions. How many high school students can answer the big “what do you want to do with your life” question? I don’t think most college students can answer that question with certainty.

The answer to this madness? From my perspective we have one of two options. We can either begin the government regulated academic career at least two years later, or add two years to the high school experience. Freshmen and Sophomore years of college are often referred to as the 13th and 14th grade as it is, why not tack that on to high school? It is far too common for young adults to wake up in their mid-twenties with the notion that they’ve made irrevocable decisions that they’d give anything to change. It all seems silly when you think about it. We have 18 years of childhood to figure out how were going to spend the next 50 or 60 years of adulthood. What’s the rush?

Students need room to be themselves

I am the high school English teacher at an alternative school. In the alternative program that I teach in, I have started to utilize an individualized lesson plan for each student. I see that students need room to be themselves, especially when it comes to the way that they learn. The lessons that I utilize for my classroom are altered to meet the specific needs of each student. If a student works better reading out loud, then we give them an environment where they can read aloud. If a student needs help with reading, then it is given to them. When you sit down and consider that each person learns in a different form and fashion, then we will quickly realize that students could benefit from just doing things in a non-traditional fashion.

A lot of teachers, and more specifically teachers of teachers, are stuck in ruts. They use text books and teach methods that where thought of many years ago. They may see that change is inevitable and they may see the change around them, but most are not willing to face the fact that this world is changing. And with the world changing, we as educators must realize that learning must also change. The curriculum that we as an educational system are using is based on what some group of people considers to be the basis for an education. I thusly have to build my lesson plans around them. After three years of writing lesson plans I was soon to realize that as long as you follow the extremely meticulous set of rules for writing them that the actual incorporation of the specific elements is not that hard. The hardest part is merely getting each student to understand all the different aspects on their educational level.

Even when I was in school I realized that some of the stuff was just impossible for me to understand because of the way that the teacher was teaching it. So soon after my initial employment in the school system I began writing lesson plans to tailor to the individual problems that the students had. This was leading me to the conclusion that some students learn better when they learn things in their own way.

Based on my experience as a teacher, and as a student, I know that the American high school system needs to revamp the way that some of the extremely complicated concepts are taught. If we were only given more freedom to teach students in different ways, then students would be learning easier. If students could be taught in the way that they learn the best, wouldn’t that benefit us all? If we look into the specifics of how a student actually learns, we may find the key that will open the door to a lost generation of learners.